


Personal Liberties

by Maxibillion



Category: Exoptable Money (Video Games), Menagerie: Archives, Presentable Liberty (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:35:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23701666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maxibillion/pseuds/Maxibillion
Summary: A man wakes up in a cell with no idea of what’s going on, and then he receives a letter.
Relationships: Charlotte/MC (Implied)
Kudos: 9





	Personal Liberties

**Author's Note:**

> The line’s in between are supposed to be time skips because I’m not used to how Archive formats yet.

_ How did this happen?  _

_ How did I let this happen? _

_ What have I done? _

_ What’s going on? _

_ Where am I? _

_ Who am I? _

_ Am I dead? _

  
  


The sheets under me feel so foreign, but so familiar. 

_ I’ve been here a while haven’t I? _

The bed’s too short for me. Have my feet been hanging from the edge this whole time? They don’t ache. 

Weird. 

This whole room is so...metallic. It’s all just metal isn’t it? Wait- There’s a small window, a clock that won’t stop ticking, the door doesn’t look like it’ll open, all I have is a bed-

I’m in a cell.

_ Why the fuck am I in a cell of all places?! _

The window won’t open- and now my hand hurts from trying to break the glass. There’s some weird wires on the wall and they shocked me when I touched them.

_ An easy out. _

This damned door. Same small window like the one above the bed, but this one has bars. For what? So I can see the stupid metal hallway? 

The door’s bolted shut and I can’t get any bolts off. 

There’s an opening under the door, but why?

Air? Food? Water? Wait- 

_ How long was I asleep?  _

_ Was I even asleep? _

_ Was it just a nightmare? _

_ Am I awake? _

_ What was that sound?  _

Something hit my foot unless I’m just going crazy.

A letter? In an envelope, although a bit dirty and beige, but it’s still a letter.

* * *

_ Oh my god what in the fresh hell is this guy talking about? _

  
Prison life?! Salvadore the traveler? Dear friend?! A bug friend!?

I don’t know some guy named Salvadore- is this some cheap trick? A joke? 

_ Why am I in prison?!  _

_ What did I do?!  _

_ I literally just woke up- was I sedated?  _

_ Kidnapped?  _

_ Framed?  _

_ What happened?  _

_ What did I do? _

  
  


Another letter? From...Doctor Money? 

Gee I wonder if he’s a greedy sleez. Or she? They? Whatever greed doesn’t have a gender. 

But the name sounds so familiar. 

_ Is it my name? _

* * *

_ Well that’s definitely not me. _

A virus? A virus. It sounds so familiar. 

But it feels off.

Extremely off.

Only 2% of people haven’t gotten the virus? Out of everyone? And many of that percent are inmates? Why?

They want to keep me alive apparently, although this “happy buddy” is a bit much. I’m not suicidal.

_ Hell, it feels like I’ve already died. _

Now thanks to that buddy I have four confetti poppers and a “portable entertainment machine” with a shitty rip off snake game to my name. And a fifth popper opened and on the floor. 

Apparently I forgot what it was...Even though I have the letters.

All the letters are in a corner now. 

Separated and categorized by last name of the sender alphabetically, and in chronological order.

_...Why the hell is that something important to me? _

_ Organizing. _

_ I can’t remember anything. _

_ But I can remember organizing. _

_ Fan-Tastic. _

* * *

“Have you ever been so alone that you cannot convince yourself of the fact that other people exist anymore?” Go shut up dude you’re not helping. Telling me about your outside adventures as I’m stuck in a tiny room and it hasn’t even been a day. 

Hell- This Salvadore guy just won’t leave me alone will he? It’s not like I can write back, even if I wrote a letter in blood I don’t know how to send it. Actually, how am I getting these letters?

This guy sent a painting too. 

Too many colors but good for morale I guess. Easy to stick to the wall.

I’m gonna hope it’s invisible glue or something.

Great, another letter.

* * *

_  
What? _

_ So even this “happy buddy” isn’t genuine. _

_ Knew this Doctor Money guy wasn’t to be trusted. _

_ That’s just...sickening. _

**_He_ ** _ is sickening. _

_ And I can’t do anything about it. _

_ Except stay alive. _

_ Maybe, just maybe. _

_ That can help. _

There’s no more light in the room. Hopefully I won’t get another letter in the night. Not that I can respond anyway.

I need to figure out what’s going on.

Alright, if I’m good at organizing then I should organize what I know.

I’m stuck in a room, a cell, with no way out. I keep getting letters from people I don’t know. 

Salvadore is a traveler and he makes it seem like we’re close friends. He knows I’m imprisoned but doesn’t say why or how. He seems to care about me although he hasn’t visited. 

_ How nice of him. _

There’s a virus outside killing practically everyone. I don’t have it, and that’s important. Meaning there’s no cure. A lot of inmates have been killing themselves, and I just woke up today.

A coma maybe? 

Then there’s Doctor Money.

_ Bastard. _

He’s holding the daughters of my “happy buddy” Mister Smiley hostage so I don’t off myself. Something I apparently shouldn’t know.

But why is it so damned important to keep me alive?

If there’s other inmates alive who haven’t caught the virus why does he have to threaten someone to talk to me? To keep up my morale? 

Unless...There really is no one else?

But then who’s sending the letters? How am I getting them? 

What’s going on?

* * *

  
  


_ Another letter from Claire? _

_ Wait- a letter? _

_ I remember, Doctor Money’s making me give him all the files. _

_ I’m a filer. _

_ All of these files, no, people’s lives on paper, and he wants them all back. _

_ They’re all suspected resistance members. Rebelling against Doctor Money’s monopoly. _

_ But why? Why are they rebelling? _

_ Why is Claire joining them? _

_ Why am I here? _

_ Why can’t I leave? _

_ And what is this box for? _

_ Why are there so many files? _

_ Why am I alone? _

* * *

  
Cold sweat. Damn. What was all of that?

A dream? A nightmare?

...That was the sound of a letter.

I better read it, I wouldn't want them to pile up after all.

It’s just another game from Mister Smiley. How fantastic. Considering his situation I gotta stay alive at least. 

If only so I can kill this Doctor Money guy.

Another letter from Sal, just in case I felt content inside of this damned room.

Thanks.

A poster? Looks like a toddler possessed by a demon made it. 

Guess I’ll hang it anyway, It’ll take up less space that way.

Another letter? Must be popular today.

Different envelope than the others too. Wax seal and everything.

* * *

  
  


_...God this is bad. _

_ This is very, very bad. _

So, Charlotte. 

She’s either talking out of her head or she’s absolutely right.

If she and I are the only ones not infected in the whole town...everyone else must have died.

She said she’s not far from my cell, but she remarked that she can’t leave her bakery; lest she be infected herself.

Is it airborne?

Shouldn’t I have gotten it from the letters then?

Or just...breathing?

Am I immune? Or just not infected yet?

Salvadore made me a table leg. Hopefully he’ll make the rest so I can set the letters somewhere but the floor.

Mister Smiley is desperate. I would be too in his situation. He keeps trying to buy me games to make me happy, bankrupting himself.

I want to scream and tell him I’m fine. To tell him to do something- anything to stop Doctor Money from...whatever he’s doing.

So he can save his daughters.

He said he’s sorry in that horribly distorted ass font he usually has in his letters. 

He’s not the one who should apologize.

The light is gone from my room. I’ve been thinking so much I haven’t even played the games too much.

Maybe I’ll start now.

* * *

_ I’m back in the room. _

_ The archive. _

_ There’s not as many files as before. _

_ But I’m starting to remember again. _

_ Why I’m here. _

_ I was assigned this job. _

_ By Doctor Money. _

_ As well as distributing money. _

_ To who though? _

_ Not just myself. _

_ No no I remember. _

_ To...Harvey Keller, Rebecca Trenholm, and Claire Bowman. _

_ But something’s...wrong. _

_ Those names are wrong. _

_ Something happened. _

_ But what? _

_ Why am I in trouble? _

* * *

Deep breaths. 

Breathe. 

Breathe god damn it!

Why does it feel like I can’t breathe?

What happened there? 

A new letter. Gotta wonder who.

Oh Mister Smiley please no- 

* * *

_ Why is this happening? _

“I’m happy.” 

If they’re watching, like how he said, I can’t let anything happen to him. 

But I can’t bring myself to smile.

I have a new game at least, since I must have fallen asleep playing the others.

But why?

There has to be a reason right?

Why wouldn’t Doctor Money visit me himself to make sure?

There’s no cameras in the room, I know that.

So why, why does Mister Smiley say they’re watching?

Damn- a new letter.

Oh, it’s Charlotte.

* * *

_ The antidote. _

_ I had the antidote. _

_ But, why? _

Charlotte says people are choking to death from the virus. 

She shouldn't have to witness that. As a bystander no less.

Doctor Money is selling an antidote? But didn’t he already do that?

That’s why I’m not infected. I had the antidote. I remember. But...how?

Charlotte doesn’t trust it, and considering it’s Doctor Money I don’t blame her.

Another letter? 

I can’t even reply.

* * *

_ Well.  _

_ Just.  _

_ Well. _

_ Just- _

The sound of the metal door being hit is ringing through my ears but I don’t care about that.

I don’t care about this stupid door!

This stupid room!

This stupid stupid!

I can’t just stay here anymore!

They need help!

Mister Smiley is more desperate than I am!

Charlotte’s alone and I can tell it’s killing her!

They’re both suffering and I can’t do anything!

Doctor Money keeps trying to screw everyone over! 

He’s screwing with the human race!

His little antidote is killing people! 

The virus is killing people!

And I’m- I’m here!

I’m here!

No one knows I’m here! 

I just.

I can’t stand anymore. My foot hurts too much from the kicks.

I can’t.

I can’t do anything.

I can’t even respond.

All I can do is cry.

I don’t want to cry.

My mouth feels like it’s going to speak for me, 

“I’m so sorry.”

_ But no one’s here to listen. _

At least I have a table now.

At least.

I can’t give up.

Not yet.

* * *

_ A red and black envelope. _

_ From the resistance. _

_ I still saved it. _

_ They confirmed my worst fear. _

_ I have the virus. _

_ But Doctor Money released an antidote. _

_ For all of the middle to upper class ranks. _

_ But it was too late. _

_ Harvey and Rebecca are already dead. _

_ They died from the virus. _

_ I couldn’t help them. _

_ I can’t help anyone. _

* * *

I woke up late. There’s already four letters in my hand from that small mail slot.

Salvadore has reached town, he didn’t know about the virus. 

There’s blood everywhere. Bodies too.

I wonder if Charlotte’s alright.

Mister Smiley gave me another game, but I don’t feel like playing it.

Charlotte says she found a gramophone. I’m glad she has something to help her.

_ Because I can’t help anyone. _ _  
_ _  
_ Oh great. Something from Doctor Money. Fantastic. A poster of money. Guess the letter will explain why I got this. Oh it’s an apology for the virus. Wait- I couldn’t have read that right.

Right?

_ Right?  _

_ All of this suffering? _

_ All of this death? _

_ He- _

**_He created the fucking virus?!?!_ **

  
  


The poster’s better as confetti anyway. 

I should burn it. If I could. 

Great, another letter. From Salvadore. Just what I need.   
  


  
Of course. In case everything wasn’t already going to hell. The antidote causes organ failure. So people buy organs from him. Then they die anyway.

And I’m stuck here.   
I can’t even die, lest Smiley’s daughters die because I was selfish.

Now- an envelope I’m excited to see with a familiar name and wax seal.

Charlotte.

“Listen Closely?” Oh- Couldn’t stop myself from questioning it aloud.

“Wait- Charlotte?” 

That soft accordion melody is the first thing I’ve heard in ages. It’s from her gramophone. I know it is.

She’s real! She’s real! 

“Charlotte! Charlotte I’m alive! I’m here! I’m not infected! You’re not alone! I promise! Please! Can you hear me? Charlotte!”

As soon as the song ends my throat is already hoarse from the screaming. 

She’s sent another letter- so soon?

Damn. She didn’t hear me. 

She still thinks she’s alone.

_ I failed again. _

  
“Tomorrow evening? No no- She can’t-” 

I’m crying again. She’s going to die tomorrow.

She even sent me a cake slice.

I know that’s her saying goodbye.

Salvadore knows where I am, he said he’ll come visit me. 

I can only hope he comes soon enough.

I have to help her.

But Mister Smiley- If I leave what about his daughters?

He said it will all end tomorrow.

What does that mean?

My hands hurt now.

I spent so long banging on the door.

It shook, but it’s not coming open.

At least I know it’s not bolted shut.

All I can do is wait.

* * *

_ I remember. _

_ Green gas is filling the room. _

_ It’s poison. _

_ But as the secretary informed me in a letter as I refused to put the files in Doctor Money’s box to be inspected, _

_ “The gas is highly flammable.” _

_ She’s a resistance leader. _

_ How ironic. _

_ I wanted justice. _

_ For Harvey. _

_ For Rebecca. _

_ I knew too much about both sides. _

_ I was dying either way. _

_ Claire was supposed to shoot me. _

_ Doctor Money told her too. _

_ But she didn’t, _

_ She trusted me more. _

_ She joined the resistance. _

_ But I was locked in the archive room. _

_ I knew what I had to do. _

_ To save whoever was left from that bastard. _

_ The secretary had given me a little wind-up toy of her own creation. _

_ It was faulty but entertaining. _

_ Always sparking. _

_ It feels so heavy yet familiar in my hands as I hold it, carefully winding the toy. _

_ Until eventually letting go as it sparks. _

_ Feeling the immense heat wash over me in a split fraction of a second. _

_ Yet I also feel...so calm. _

_ So, so calm. _

* * *

  
My breath is shaky. Why won’t my heart stop thumping- its hurting my throat- I can hardly breathe. 

Is it the virus? Is it panic? 

Are the tears the virus too?

The guilt?

A new letter, blue envelope.

Mister Smiley.

* * *

_ Fuck. _

They’re dead.

Smiley and his daughters are dead.

And he still got me another damned game.

He sold himself, his organs, for a game he admitted isn’t fun.

Just so I don’t give up hope.

Just so I keep going.

I have to keep going.

Great. Doctor Money. What bullshit does he have this time?

* * *

  
Now I have more confetti.

“You’re worth every penny.” 

Motherfucker.

Wai- a letter from Salvadore? Oh shit- He’s getting me out!

I forgot- I forgot a lot of things apparently.

  
  


Salvadore’s here, according to him he’s trying to get me out. I know he is. 

Doctor Money doesn’t like this.

But who gives a fuck about what he thinks when this is all said and done.   
I’m done caring about a dead man.

Well, soon to be dead.

Another letter?

Charlotte.

But it’s not evening- It’s not even six- There’s still daylight-

I am coming- but she doesn’t know that- she and Salvadore should have met- they barely missed each other- 

“Please tell me that you are coming- I am! Charlotte I am please just wait! Charlotte, I'm begging please hang on a little longer!”   
My breath is starting to hitch, but I can't cry. Not now. 

Not over ifs.

No.

_ No no please- _

Another letter from Charlotte.

“I’m sorry friend- no- Charlotte no wait please wait! Charlotte! Charlotte! Please! I can’t lose you too! Charlotte!”   
  
Another letter.

It feels the same as all of her other letters. What’s inside? I’m too scared.

I’m so scared.

Charlotte.

Please.

The blood on the paper.

Her handwriting is messier than usual.

“I’m sorry.”

She’s gone.

Her last letter. An apology for her impatience.

She has nothing to apologize for.

I don’t even know her.

I’ve never even met her.

But why can’t I bring myself to stand?

Or stop these stupid sobs.

Why can’t I save anyone but myself?

Why?

_ Why? _

Another letter. From Salvadore- maybe I can still save her.

Maybe I’m not too late-

He found the generator- I’m going to leave!

* * *

The lights are out.

Now they’re red.

There’s a letter from Doctor money.

Salvadore’s dead.

He died. Saving me.

The door is open.

The town is dead.

Everyone’s dead.

Doctor Money and I are the last one’s left.

He doesn’t want me to open the door. 

He doesn’t want me to leave. 

This isn’t about what he wants.

Not anymore.

* * *

The air of the hallway is cool, colder than the small room.

Where’s the exit?

Where’s the exit!?   
  


There’s something! 

A...button?

Two buttons?

With wires on the back.

The other rooms are welded shut.

That means-

God I’ve been a fool.

My footsteps are scaring me from the sound but I don’t care!

I know how to fix this!

My tears are leaking into my smile so much the salt burns the cuts.

But it doesn’t matter! I can save her!

I can- Oh shit-

I must have done something wrong- My cell- the elevator- it’s falling-

I’m just holding onto the letters for dear life.

They’re all I have.

I can’t lose them.

_ I can’t lose what I never had either.  _

It stopped.

I’m alive.

The posters! The cake! I have to grab everything!

If I fold the posters to hold the letters- and the cake. 

It’s not bad yet.

I’ll share it with Charlotte.

* * *

It’s dark outside.

It’s evening.

But there's the bakery!

Charlotte’s Delicious Pastries!

She was across the street the whole time!

The door’s creeky but that’s fine.

But...why is there so much blood?

Where’s Charlotte?

There’s a desk.

With a bloody note.

The cake can take its place as I read.

_ To my only friend, _

_ When you’re reading this, I will already be dead. _

“No.”

_ My shop will probably look quite messy… _

_ I have decided that I’ll go to the back room to die, so you don’t have to look at my corpse. _

“No.”

_ I’m sorry I couldn’t be more patient in waiting for you. _

_ But that doesn’t matter now. _

_ What matters is that you’re here. Against all odds, you managed to escape the prison. _

“No Charlotte please-”

_ I’m aware that this may seem like a bad ending to this story, _

_ but you’re here. _

_ You’re here, and I have baked another cake for you. I’m not sure how fresh it will be when you find this, as for all I know you never will, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. _

_ I wish you the best of luck. _

“No please-”

“ _ Charlotte _ ”

Everything has fallen out of my hands as the gramophone starts to play.

I couldn’t-

She couldn’t have-

The back room-

Maybe there’s still time to save her!

It’s locked- I’ll have to kick down the door.

Almost

Just one more kick-

  
  


“Charlotte!”

But there’s no one there anymore.

Just a beautiful corpse with a rope around her neck.

And a man screaming and crumbling to his knees as the only person he’s ever truly known has disappeared.


End file.
